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Friday, 30 September 2011

Pouring Libation



At the front line, where backs are   
Firmly stack against walls, that hot  
Transmitting the burning coals of larva 


From the bosom of dejected dissolution  
Deep beneath the heart's crust knocking 
With increased temperature, in temperament  


Of  the heat, in trepidation gushing up 
As time passes by, like street lights so fast 
Distancing, one from dreams with stretch  


With age count, adding burden of  guilt on lost hope
Like the gas filled cylinder left out cold 
Awaiting sparks, just a single spark, for its day 


To burn, combust, with might  in the light 
Showing its glory, showing its all
As given to proclaim as destiny to be 


Yet slowly, increasingly, widening  
This hatch, hole of opening enigma, 
Escapes hope, from an opening 


Sucks out, leaks and dilute with air 
The essence of once so defined 
Taking forms of deflated objects, wrinkled   


What do you do son, what do you do 
 To keep from drowning souls  
As once so care free, a spirit trapped in cages 


Today we will pour libations, it is needed 
Laugh and mock life and dreams had
Tomorrow we will saddle up, back chasing that dream 
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